


5x11: End of an Era

by nightbirdrises



Series: S5 Reaction Drabbles [11]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Reaction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:12:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbirdrises/pseuds/nightbirdrises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine has an early birthday gift for Kurt that just can't wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5x11: End of an Era

**Author's Note:**

> please heed the fact that Finn is mentioned heavily here; ([tumblr](http://princehummel.tumblr.com/post/79338242750))

"I can’t believe you still haven’t told me what songs you guys competed with," Kurt says, looking pointedly at Blaine on his laptop’s screen. "They’re not even on the show choir blogs, apparently they’re only uploading the winning performances now."

"In time, in time," Blaine says distractedly. He’s not looking at Kurt; it seems like he’s staring at his keyboard. "Did you get anything in the mail today?"

"I don’t know, I haven’t checked. Should I check?"

"Yeah, I think you should."

Kurt nods and blows Blaine a kiss as he stands, turning to head for the door. He’s sure he looks ridiculous with the way he’s practically sprinting down the stairs to the mailboxes for their building, but he’s curious to know why Blaine’s acting the way he is.

Finally he reaches the mailbox and unlocks it, peering inside. There’s a bill (he’ll have to talk to Santana about her lengthy showers, it seems) but there’s also a thin, rectangular package wrapped in plain brown paper. He takes both out and hurries back up the stairs, turning the package over in his hands. It’s unmarked except for the address.

"Okay, if this is you giving me a Prancercise video, I think we need to have a long talk about your exercise choices," Kurt says as soon as he walks back into his room, the curtain rippling in his wake.

"I promise it’s not that," Blaine says. He’s smiling when Kurt situates himself on the bed, getting comfortable. "It’s— Well, I guess you could say it’s an early birthday gift."

Kurt huffs out a short laugh, shaking his head. “And it couldn’t wait until I’m back in Ohio with everyone?” Blaine shrugs.

"Go ahead and open it." Kurt does, ripping through the paper without much care. It’s definitely some kind of DVD; a small card falls out as well, simply reading  _For Kurt - I love you_. 

After smiling at the short note, written in Blaine’s neat, whimsical hand, Kurt takes a look at the DVD case. It’s not extravagantly decorated - instead, it’s simply titled Nationals 2013, white text on a black background. In the center is a gold symbol that Kurt only vaguely recognizes.

"It’s the insignia of the Almighty Treble Clef," Blaine says while Kurt’s staring at it.

"Wait, wasn’t that…" Kurt trails off, understanding. "Oh."

"I got some fanboy from the show choir blogs to record our performance. We did it for him, which you knew, of course, but… I think you should watch it."

"Now?"

"If you want."

Kurt mulls it over for a moment then nods, opening the case and putting the DVD in his laptop. He’s not sure what to expect, but if it has to do with Finn - he grabs a pillow and hugs it, tucking it under his chin as he waits for the video to load. Normally he wouldn’t watch something like this with anyone watching him, but Blaine isn’t just anyone.

The New Directions are arranged on the stage, music beginning, and before Kurt can say anything, Blaine’s breaking away from the group - singing the first lines of Boston’s  _More Than a Feeling_.

Kurt distinctly remembers this song, it always played too-loud from that room down the hall back home. He squeezes the pillow and watches, sure that Blaine can hear the audio playing through to his end of the Skype call. He can’t see his fiancé, but he doesn’t need to just now. This is for him, after all, and this moment is his own. Blaine knows this, always has when it comes to the loss of his stepbrother. 

 _Brother, actually_ , Kurt corrects himself. The “step” part became obsolete long ago.

The next song is Neil Diamond’s  _America_ ; Kurt knows this one more intimately. He’d even indulged Finn in an at-home trial run duet once, when they’d been considering it for a competition number. Their voices never did mesh the way that Finn and Rachel’s did, or his and Blaine’s, but it had been an unexpectedly fun time nonetheless.

Watching the New Directions perform it, however, also reminds him of being a part of that group in general. It’s a fun number, one of those that you can’t help but at least nod along to, and Kurt misses that camaraderie. There’s the band, of course, but it’s not quite the same. This was hours of dance rehearsals, only to modify practically the whole thing the night before - as per New Directions tradition in pretty much everything. This was spending so much time with the same people that he thought he would explode, but knowing that he wouldn’t give it up for the world.

He has moved on, though. Everyone else has to, as well, the club now having been disbanded. It’s disheartening that such a key part of his life, whether he’s involved right now or not, is officially over. The end of an era, in more ways than one.

The third (and, Kurt assumes, final) song is none other than U2’s  _I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For_ ; he’d almost expected it, but that doesn’t keep him from half-laughing, half-sniffing as he recognizes it.

Kurt couldn’t count the number of times he heard this song being belted out in the shower if he tried, couldn’t count the number of times he walked into Finn’s room only to see him with ear buds in, mouthing along with all the passion he had - and that was a  _lot_.

It’s only after Sam’s holding the drumsticks in the air that Kurt realizes the pillow under his chin is damp, his cheeks as well. He blinks, wiping his face on his sleeve, and clicks back to Skype with a watery smile.

"His favorite songs," Kurt says, and Blaine gazes back at him, gentle.

"I just thought you might want that little piece of him," Blaine says. "I sent one to Rachel too, and your parents."

"I can’t believe I’m not in Ohio yet so I can thank you properly," Kurt says a bit sadly, holding the pillow close, dampness be damned.

"One week," Blaine says quietly, looking a little surprised at the short length of time until they’re no longer apart - ever, if they can help it.

"One week. And I’m going to give you the biggest Hummel hug you’ve ever had in your eighteen years of life," Kurt says with a bigger smile at the thought of it.

"I don’t know, your dad gave me a pretty impressive one," Blaine teases. "It’ll be a close call."

"You should declare me the best Hummel hugger no matter what, you know. For one thing, you’re my fiancé; for another, I’m not just going to be a Hummel for that much longer."

Blaine rolls his eyes. “You’re always going to be a Hummel as far as I’m concerned. Adding my name onto it won’t make a difference in that.”

"You sound like my dad, honey," Kurt says. He finally puts the pillow aside and absently brushes a bit of dust off of the screen. "Santana wants me to get take-out for dinner tonight. I should go do that before she gets home."

"I wouldn’t want you to get murdered by our friend before we reunite, so I’ll let you go. Skype before bed, though?"

"Of course," Kurt assures him. "I’ll see you later, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, Kurt."

"And thank you. That sounds so… not enough, but I mean it."

"I know," Blaine says. Kurt blows him a kiss, hangs up, shuts his laptop, and sighs deeply, thoroughly, as if releasing his very soul. And he pulls on a light jacket to go out in, checks his reflection in the mirror - his eyes are still a bit red, but there’s nothing to be done about it in the little time he has. He does smile into the mirror, though, and he twists the ring around his finger a few times, safe in being loved and - maybe even more importantly - known.


End file.
